


then you walked in and my heart went boom

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, First Meetings, Galra!Keith, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Shady Pasts, Train Ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-02-11 01:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12924804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Shiro is just a guy on a train, heading for North. Keith is just a guy on a train, hiding a few things. ON A HIATUS.





	1. If I was feeling you up, you'd know it

**After the nuke wars devastated the planet, many believed the world as they knew it had come to an end. But as ever, in the face of man-made destruction, people rise.**

**And now, in the year 21XX, mankind has become to heal.**

**This, however, is not a story about mankind. This is a story about a guy who meets another guy on a long-ass train, on a long-ass train ride in a tiny country that used to be a part of Northern Europe, now just generally called one of the Northern Republics, part of the Old Europe Coalition.**

**These two guys have little to do with that.**

**They have a lot to do with each other.**

 

**X X X X**

 

When the Spear-trains were established, many rejoiced, for travel became a whole lot easier- even through most cities and towns that barely held more than a handful of people and a handful of shops. Money went to the big wigs’ pockets, sure, but those big wigs had become the ones who actually give a shit.

It had probably helped that the last President and her Prime Minister had been assassinated in a public place. Nobody could really fault the shooters: both of them and their government had done little to help their poorer citizens during the war that had been.

But now- now the ones that are actually trusted and loved are trying their best to fix a broken world. Not merely here in the North but everywhere else. Even where the radiation’s still so strong that the ground is unlivable.

But the Spear-trains run.

The sleek, electric blue Groundrunners. The silver and shining Skyspears. Even the only one of its kind, the Seaspear, running underneath the Atlantic Ocean in its tunnel, built way before the war.

The Groundrunners are the most useful, used ones, the ones that run in every single country through every single city that still stands: they stay on solid ground, they cross most of Old Europe and Old Africa. What do they even run on; most of the passengers don’t even know or care. They just want to go.

**05.12.21XX Groundrunner Model 204-A-2000, on route from [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]**

One Groundrunner a mere two hours ago begun its journey from the South to the eternal cold of the North. It’s one of the most trusty ones, one of the oldest ones, sometimes lovingly nicknamed as Gruddy or Groundy or Speedy, it runs at a staggering speed, only slowing down in between stations. Its shiny blue sides are at times adorned by legal graffiti, made by this and that youth group to announce that this is theirs.

Sometimes the view outside the windows go by too fast to even see. Not that there is much to see, especially the further North one goes.

 In this particular train, this little Gruddy with its seven cars, there’re enough passengers to fill each of them from top to bottom. One of those passengers in _car six_ a particular man is tapping his pencil against his lips, staring into nothing. His papers are spread all over in front of him on the small table, slowly migrating towards his only companion in the same spot.

The person is deeply asleep, so the man figures they won’t mind.

“Fuck,” says Takashi Shirogane as his thoughts finally decide to abandon him entirely, leaving him chittery and too focused on the creak of his prosthetic hand. He lets his pencil and his thesis go and begins gathering his papers. Maybe a moment in the restaurant car might help get him back on track. Maybe they even have Energizer.

Huh, who he’s even kidding. It’s a Groundrunner, one of the oldest ones. It basically _runs_ on Energizer, that neon green liquid fuel. It also tastes like fuel but often works better than mere coffee.

Oh boy, if only Shiro could have some coffee. But on his salary he can only reserve a spot in cars from three to seven and those never have coffee. If only their ancestors hadn’t been so shit to the planet before so Shiro could have some coffee.

Oh well. Energizer it is. With a sigh Shiro finishes somewhat making sure his papers stay in one place and gathers his wallet and phone. It’s a sleek model hidden in its bulky covers, not nearly as fast and nice as the newest ones- also launched by the Spears, basically this era’s Bill Gates- nor is it one of those etched into people’s glasses, sunglasses, wristwatches… Shiro prefers everything by hand.

He does have one thing built into his prosthetic- the one that replaced the arm he lost in a plane crash a forever ago: its own wristwatch, complete with a weather report and how many steps he takes per day. If he doesn’t stay in motion, he might as well die. Like a shark.

I’d rather be a lion, he’d said once. His mother, long gone by now, had laughed. You’ll always be my little shark. But you can be whatever you want to be, kiddo.

Shiro shakes his mother’s fading face from his mind and heads towards the restaurant car, his journey there taking him through cars six and five. The fifth one is filled with pets. There’re the usual ones, small and large dogs, a few cats in their carriages, even a pet bird chattering its cage. But there’re also the new ones, some mutated and some exotic ones now available to a wider audience.

Shiro offers a smile at a few of them, asks if he can pet one over-excited dog. It licks his hand. He rubs its ears and goes on, his walking a little unsteady, no matter how smoothly the Gruddy runs. Old scars itch under his clothes. His throat is dry. At least he’d long since shed his overcoat and scarf and the Spear-trains are always kept at a good temperature anyway.

He opens the door to the restaurant car and finds it filled with noise, as expected. He squints, looking for a place to sit. There’re some couples there, a few families, a couple of loners with earbuds in their ears and something that could be either beer or one of those signature drinks- both alcoholic and alcohol-free- that every Spear-train offers to those of age.

Finally Shiro spots a tiny corner table, big enough to probably fit two. Not that Shiro intends to share, he needs to spread his legs a little, especially since his knee-brace has decided to be an asshole once more.

“Hey, could I-“ Shiro turns towards the patiently waiting cashier, checking the menu. He taps on it to change it to drinks. “One tall Energizer and, uh-“ he goes back to the dishes. He rubs the scar on his nose tentatively. “The galaxy burger.”

The cashier takes his order and chirps out the amount, also hands him a number to take with him to the table. She gives him his drink.

On he goes. He’s barely sat down when the door to the third train car hisses open and a person staggers out, whistling. The person is also apparently pretty spectacularly drunk. Shiro lifts an eyebrow when the person stops by his table. A flash of light dances on the person’s temple, where a clear AI-port has been inserted. Or maybe it’s just a chip. Or something. Shiro’s never been quite clear with the whole head-surgery-thing.

The person is also very… well. Very drunk. Apparently a guy. And wearing only a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants, looking like he rolled off the bed.

While drunk. Apparently.

“Damn,” the person says. He sniffs the air. His voice is a pleasant purr. Shiro finds himself staring, for some reason.

“Something smells real nice,” the person continues, then turns his head.

Shiro meets his eyes. “Uhm.” Shiro tentatively sniffs his Energizer. Those don’t smell like anything, right?

The probably-a-he snorts loudly and promptly seats themselves across Shiro, smelling themselves quite strongly of booze.

Shiro’s face must have twitched because his new companion snorts again. “I’ve been drinking for the past two hours straight,” the stranger says.

“Uh,” says Shiro. He sips his Energizer and tries not to make a face at the first touch of acidity. “You’re kinda… in the way of my number. And I’m hungry.” Who the hell is this guy?

The stranger shifts, just a bit. His eyes are a strange colour, especially for a human. Unless he’s one of the modders or has cybernetics. Obviously has some, considering the weird chip on his temple. Shiro knows better than to ask, people tend to be protective over their bodies, even in this day and age where half of them have something metallic shoved into them.

“A sweet arm you’ve got there, big guy,” the stranger says after a moment of awkward fidgeting and silence. He doesn’t have to point.

Shiro shrugs. Instinctively he curls both of his hands to his fists, then loosens them again. His prosthetic could be one of those expensive ones that barely look different from actual human hands- but Shiro prefers function over beauty. So he minds little that his hands looks like it could belong to a fucking Terminator.

“How do you know it’s my entire arm and not just my hand?” He asks after another moment of fidgety silence. His glass is slowly but surely emptying.

The stranger smiles, a sleazy, lazy little grin that makes it even more difficult to tell what he is: a human, an alien, entirely made of cybernetics- or just Shiro’s sleepy-brain-induced hallucination. Wouldn’t be the first time Shiro’s study-helpers give him a little more than a boost to his brain.

The stranger has two deceitfully cute pointy teeth. Like a dark-haired vampire.

“You hold that hand a little differently,” he says. His speech still slurs, he keeps swaying on his seat but somehow Shiro gets the feeling the guy isn’t as drunk as he seems.

“Uh,” Shiro says again. He doesn’t really want to tell the guy the fuck off. Shiro’s generally not the type to tell anyone to fuck off. And the guy isn’t too pushy or too bothersome anyway. Before Shiro can make a decision either way, the guy has outstretched his hand.

“You may call me K.”

“K?”

Shiro shakes his hand.

The guy, K, grins. “Hey you works as well. I don’t go around telling other people my real name, no matter how hot they are, but I’m pretty fucking bored. So if you want some company, I’m just on the car up ahead.” K lets go of Shiro’s hand but only to grab the prosthetic one. “Damn, this is really a sweet arm. How’s your grip with this one? As good as the other one?”

Shiro figures that indulging the guy won’t hurt. Right? “Little bit worse, actually. But my, uh, other one is way above average anyway.” Am I bragging? This isn’t bragging, right?

K’s odd eyes trail up Shiro’s arm and then to his face. K’s hands follow the same route and squeeze his bicep. “Damn,” K says.

Shiro pulls his arm free and rubs his neck. “You okay?”

K stops. “What?” He looks back behind himself to see the cook slash waiter start making their way towards them.

“It’s just- do you usually go to random strangers and start feeling them up? I’m Shiro, by the way.” Shiro’s cheeks heat up at the look K shoots at him.

“Buddy, if I was feeling you up, you’d know it.” K winks.

Shiro wonders if he’s making a huge mistake letting this person stay. Especially when the first thing K does after Shiro’s gotten his food is to steal a few of his fries.

“I’m in car 3, don’t forget! Unless you’re getting off in like, three stations or so.” K gets up and dusts himself off from imaginary dust, his lazy grin still lingering. A few strands have escaped from his ponytail. In this light, his eyes look a little more purple.

“No, I’m- I’m here all the way. To the North. Study-things,” Shiro says and skewers a piece of a meat.

K winks again. “Same. Have a good one.” And then he’s off, the same way he came. Shiro is left blinking, utterly confused but oddly intrigued.

K had been very, very pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be irregular   
> sorry in advance but i still have a week and a half left of uni for the year and other things to do


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K and Shiro talk a little more. Shiro's distracted.

**05.12.21XX Groundrunner Model 204-A-2000, on route from [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]**

12:04

The door to car three opens with a quiet hiss, with just the touch of Shiro’s hand. He’d contemplated somewhat in his own car, in his own seat if he should take up K on his offer to go see him- but boredom and the impossible obstacle of actually getting any work done in his thesis had forced Shiro up.

So here Shiro is, well-fed, well rested, peeking over the heads and seats in the cabin to find the one he’s looking for. He doesn’t have to walk for long to see K lounging in his seat like it was a throne, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and an shiny red earbud in his ear.

K’s eyes lift from whatever he’s tapping on his tablet and instantly he grins.

“Big guy!” He says and pats the free seat next to him, yanking off his wireless earbuds. He puts his tablet away.

Tentatively Shiro gets closer. Somehow he has to return K’s grin. “I was a little bored. Were you watching something?” He takes a seat.

K instantly scoots closer and takes out his tablet again. “One of my favourite series. It’s pretty sweetly animated.” The tablet is so thin Shiro almost fear it breaking from how much K taps on it and fiddles with it- it’s also a model Shiro has never seen before. There’s a single, decorative S at the corner.

Shiro lifts an eyebrow. “Before you show anything else- that’s a tablet I’ve never seen before. What’s the S for?”

K wiggles his eyebrows and brings up a frozen video. “Those pesky multibillionaires, always making everything everywhere… this one’s a limited edition, made by Lotor Spear himself. They only sold like five of these. I was lucky.”

“Oh.”

K nudges Shiro with an elbow and sits a little uncomfortably close. Like this, Shiro can almost swear there’s a slight purple hue to K’s skin, the tips of his ears- pierced multiple times- a little pointier than a regular human’s. It kind of looks like he’s-

“Hey,” K says.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to stare,” Shiro rumbles and tries to focus on the screen where a couple of mechas in the shape of giant lions float through space.

“Stare all you want, big boy. I don’t mind,” K whispers and offers Shiro another pair of wireless headphones.

Shiro’s only headphones are wired, a rarity as pretty much everything in the universe is wireless these days.

K helps him loop the earbuds properly to their places and so Shiro’s ears are flooded with sound.

K tells him the story of the show. Shiro listens, attentively, enraptured by the way K gestures wildly with his hands and how a few dark strands escape his ponytail and curl around his ears.

They watch a couple of episodes, K roots for the baddies, Shiro roots for the goodies.

“Soooo,” K murmurs, pressing his thigh against Shiro’s. “Where are you from, Shiro? You don’t look much like a local boy. Of this country or its neighbours. They don’t quite make them like you in here.” K’s finger trails down Shiro’s bicep.

Shiro follows its with his gaze, then looks at K’s glimmering eyes. They look golden in this light. They narrow as K tilts his head.

“Well?” That finger on Shiro’s bicep is really, really distracting.

“Uhm. Osaka,” Shiro finally says.

K’s eyes widen a fraction, his finger stops stroking. “Osaka? As in-“

Shiro nods, finally tearing his gaze away from K. “Yeah.” Merely the mention of his former home brings a sting to his heart. He had lived there for a good part of his childhood before it had gotten decimated in a tsunami. Most of what was Japan is still under water from the disasters that plagued it in the wake of the nukes.

“I’m sorry.”

Shiro huffs. “It is quite daunting to know that my childhood home is no longer there.” He offers K a smile. “But I found a new home in here. It’s a little colder than I’m used to but here I am. And here my family is too: my mother and her three dogs. They’re all living in the North.”

“You’re going to go visit them?” K’s smiling too, a sweeter expression than Shiro’s seen from his eccentric companion before.

Shiro nods. “Mama sends me messages almost daily. One of the dogs, Red-“ he stops. “Do you really wanna hear about my mama’s dogs?”

K looks at him for a long moment without saying, then leans forward. K’s hand is very warm when it reaches to touch Shiro’s cheek. “You know, I was just thinking about seducing you and taking you for a ride in the toilets, but I’m kinda- instead I’m intrigued.” K’s thumb rubs Shiro’s nose-scar, then lifts a few white strands from Shiro’s forehead. “You have a fancy, but useful prosthetic. You have a limp. You have scars and you’re ridiculously buff yet you have the gentlest, sweetest eyes I’ve seen on anyone in a while. I find myself wondering, who is this guy? Who is this Shiro?”

Shiro opens and closes his mouth, tongue flicking over his lips. “I’m really not that interesting. I just study archeology and ancient ruins. That’s pretty much as boring as I could get.”

K seems perfectly happy stroking Shiro’s face. “So you just want me to seduce you and take you out for a ride, is what you’re saying?”

“Wha- no-“

K pulls his hand back. “No?”

“I mean- just. It’s not that you’re not attractive because holyfuck you are-“ Shiro wets his lips again. Glancing around them but everyone else seems to be sleeping or just deep in their tablets and computers.

K grabs his hand and squeezes it. “I’m attractive?”

Shiro’s lips twitch into a smile before he can help it. “I think you know full well that you are. And that I know it.”

K winks. “You wanna watch more of this?”

So they do, heads bowed together, K whispering a plot point or pointing out a particular character to Shiro. Shiro lets himself be lulled into this stranger’s nice voice and nicer words and allows himself a moment of rest.

After three whole episodes, Shiro clears his throat. “I should kinda get back to work.”

“Maybe I should let you.” K takes back the extra headphones and puts down the tablet. He’s still smiling but it’s not quite right: it’s a little thin on that ethereal face.

“It’s just it’s my thesis- I’m supposed to work on it over this family holiday and this whole train ride, I mean, ten hours or so- it’s mostly about how the Northern countries and cities are faring after a couple of decades of rebuilding and stuff-“ Shiro’s voice trails off when K’s fingers brush his chin. “I’m procrastinating writing it, I know.”

K snorts. “I’ve written enough essays and shit to know how boring they can be. But that’s an interesting subject. What seat are you in and what car? Maybe I’ll visit you in an hour or so.”

Shiro wets his lips and watches K withdrawing his hand once more. “Six. Car six. There’re like five people in the car with me right now but it’s seat fifteen. It’s not hard to find though, I’m the only one with actual papers and books in tow.” He flushes at that, and at the warmth in K’s gaze.

“Oh, right,” says K and takes Shiro’s hand once more but this time to grab his wrist and find his communicator. “Can I have your number? I’ll send you a text.”

Even through the prosthetic, Shiro thinks he can somewhat feel K’s warmth.

“I wanna get to know you too,” Shiro finds himself saying. He gives his number. Gets K’s in return. They tap those into their wrist-communicators and bring up their chat windows.

K’s nickname is theredlion.

Shiro’s nickname is tshirogane.

“You really like that show, huh?” Shiro asks and bites his lip when K looks flustered for the first time during the brief time they have known each other.

“T. Shirogane, huh? So that’s where Shiro comes from,” K counters with a sharp tone. “What’s the T for?”

“Maybe you have to find out,” Shiro says and it’s worth it, because K’s eyes narrow with challenge. “Bye then, red lion.”

“Bye then, mister Shirogane.”

K waves when Shiro glances behind himself by the train car door. Shiro shakes his head. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have some company during this train ride. It helps that K seems nice, albeit mysterious- who introduces themselves as just one letter? - and a bit too forward for Shiro’s tastes. But Shiro’s spent most of his life doing what others want him to do and conforming to other people’s expectations, he’s allowed to look and admire and get to know other people than his family and friends, dammit.

Maybe he just won’t tell his mother, his blessed, frustrating mother, that he had thought about kissing a strange, attractive man in a public place- god knows where K comes from and who he is and what he really wants from Shiro.

Shiro doesn’t do hook-ups or one-night-stands, much less anything long-term. They are just not on the agenda. Doesn’t mean he’s not well-acquainted with his hand or his various toys, however.

No one’s just ever been interesting enough for him before.

But K is handsome, sharp, pretty and radiating an entrancing kind of a mystery. Shiro finds his hand tingling from when K had touched it and smiles to himself.

His communicator beeps with a notification.  

**theredlion _:_** _let me creep on you a bit, mister Shirogane_

**theredlion _:_** _but your ass looks great in those pants_

Shiro must make some kind of a noise because the old lady sitting closeby lifts her eyebrows at him. Shiro clears his throat and quickly returns to his seat.

 **tshirogane:** _my ass probably appreciates the compliment_

 **tshirogane:** _I think_

 **tshirogane:** _now watch some more of your anime and let me work in peace_

**theredlion _:_** _you know you like it._

**tshirogane:** _can’t deny that._

The Groundrunner speeds on under the grey sky and Shiro returns to his thesis. He tries not think about K too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a voltron book: nothing was worth shiro's pain  
> me: cries about sheith


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K tells Shiro his name. Shiro lets himself feel the attraction.

**05.12.21XX Groundrunner Model 204-A-2000, on route from [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]**

**14:44**

After a short nap, Shiro begins to read the news. There's the usual fuckery in the Atlantic Coalition, more of the same in the Old Europe Coalition- and nothing new from what's left of Eastern Asia. Shiro scrolls through his usual ten or so news sites in various languages. He lingers on a few sites, smiles at a few photos of animals, of surviving celebrities with animals and with each other, then moves on.

He reads about the ever-going investigation on who the Spears are, the ever-present question on just why the mysterious billionaire-family is so elusive- maybe they're all ugly, maybe they're liars and deceivers- or maybe they're all aliens.

It's not like aliens are anything weird on a planet that has had them with the usual humans like Shiro and K since the beginning of time: but sometimes there are those who still think humans should rule Earth instead of mingle with the likes of Olkari or, God forbid, Galra who many think tend to be too aggressive.

Shiro rubs his bicep, like to drive away some of the phantom pain still lingering in the missing limb. He flexes his fingers, watches the ceiling light gleam on the metal of his prosthetic. The fingers on it move when he wants them to move, it grabs all the things he wants it to grab.

It's still more of an 'it,' something extra added to him instead of a hand. He sighs and lets both hands rest on the small table in front of him. He takes out his book and begins to read.

The story is entertaing: pirates in space, an Altean princess and a mysterious, handsome stranger. There's some romance between various characters, especially the quirky one-eyed pirate and his partner who never really gets much of a description: subconsiously Shiro places himself in that role, smiling softly at the thought. From that, naturally, he begins to think of the space pirate as K.

Oh dear.

Shiro continues to read, through a galactic battle or two, the princess speaking to the pirates, a somewhat uncomfortably detailed sex scene between the pirate and his partner- Shiro slams his book shut and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

His brain helpfully offers up imagery of the way light had played on K's skin, how his dark hair had curled just so around his ears. How easy it would have been for Shiro to just reach and tuck the strands behind K's ear.

And let his fingers linger.

He doesn't even know who K is and what kind of a secret he's carrying: no one calls themselves by just one letter if they want to be honest. For all Shiro knows, K could be a criminal or a runaway. But for now, they are stuck on this train and maybe Shiro could let himself release some steam.

He sighs as he leans further back on his seat and stares out of the window. He lets his mind drift, deep and long enough that it takes a puff of air against his ear and a hand on his wrist to snap him out of it. He flinches, turning sharply towards the intruder.

K has a halo of light, a golden gleam in his eyes as he grins at Shiro.

“Hey buddy, it's just me. Was bored so I figured I'd come say hi.” K plops himself down on the seat next to Shiro, instantly behaving like he owns the place. His hair is free of its ponytail now, the ends of it tickling K's slender shoulders. It looks thick and shiny. 

“Uh. Hello,” Shiro says, putting down his book. He's still not quite sure what this man wants from him. 

K's eyes narrow as he sees the book. “Wow. I figured you for a vintage-fan already but an actual, printed book?” His grin widens to reveal his teeth, his canines looking even pointier. The teeth are still kind of cute.

“Nothing wrong with appreciating the classics,” Shiro huffs. He gives K the book to look through.

K's eyes widen, his pretty hands nearly quivering as he takes the book and begins to skim. A tip of a pink tongue peeks through his lips.

Shiro stares. He wonders still who K is, how old he is, where he comes from- wonders if K would answer any of his questions. Shiro's hand seems to have different ideas as it moves to tuck that stubborn strand of hair behind K's ear.

They both freeze.

K's skin is hot to the touch, his hair silky-smooth. Shiro licks his dry lips and pulls his hand back. “Uhm.”

“No, no,” whispers K, putting the book down and turning fully towards Shiro. He keeps his voice low. “You can touch me if you want. Do you?”

“Do I?”

“Do you want to touch me?” K's lips, soft, pink, parted, curl into a smile. His fingers have curled around Shiro's hand again, stroking his palm. “I meant what I said earlier. I want to take you for a ride. I want to see-” whatever K wants to see, Shiro isn't listening. He takes the moment and grabs it by the horns, closes the distance between them to press his mouth against the corner of K's mouth. 

They part with an audible smack.

Shiro's mouth opens and closes. “Uhm,” is all he manages.

K's eyes have gone a little wider again. “I think the toilets are free,” he murmurs, still stroking Shiro's hand. “We don't have to do that much but...” he licks his lips and helplessly Shiro follows the flash of the pink tongue. “I'd like some. I think you want to touch me as much as I want to touch you. Am I wrong?”

Yes, says Shiro's brain. “No,” says his mouth. His eyes jump from K's mouth to his eyes, to his mouth, to his eyes. He pulls his hand to himself and rubs it, his prosthetic fingers feeling even clumsier than usual. His lips tingle. “I don't- I mean, I do sometimes have-” he glances around them but no one in the car seems to be listening or hearing this incredibly private conversation. “It's not like I don't have casual sex ever, but you're just-”

K's eyebrows are lifted. “I'm twenty-four, if that's what you're worried about.”

Shiro flushes. “It's not that, although- I'm thirty-”

K snorts. “Big guy, what the fuck do I care? I just want to climb your dick. Or let you climb mine.”

Running a hand through his face and hair doesn't seem to help. Shiro groans.

“And I don't have any diseases, I get tested regularly, I even have lube and condoms,” K lists casually, his smirk crooked. “Do you want to take me out on a date first? Maybe go sit around more in the restaurant car?”

Shiro squirms. “It's not that, what the hell- it's just. I don't know you. At all. And a train toilet? Not really my thing.” He draws a deep breath. “It's not you. It's not you at all.”

“Aw,” whispers K. “So you do want to do me?” He snickers and grabs Shiro's hands again, both of them. He doesn't seem to be the least bit bothered by the prosthetic, stroking it as much as the other one. “Can I at least get a kiss?”

“Can I at least get your name?” Whispers Shiro in the same vein, watching K's slender, pretty hands against his own rough, large ones.

K stills. “Kiss me first.”

Shiro watches those defiant, golden-hued eyes and sighs, shoulders slumping. He licks his lips and glances around them.

“Baby, no one's looking,” K mutters, rolling his eyes fondly.

Shiro's brain stutters to a halt at the baby as he watches K tilt his head. “Okay. Okay. Fine.” His body seems to be going on overdrive, his skin tingling, even his phantom pains and aches stirring up under his skin. He gently squeezes K's hands and leans onwards, closing his eyes.

He can feel K smiling when their mouths connect, when K's lips part against his. Shiro pushes onwards, swallowing K's warm breath and his soft chuckle. The kiss deepens for a hot, long moment, their lips softly pressing and probing against each other. When K's tongue flicks against Shiro's mouth, Shiro pulls back.

“Nice,” K whispers. “Your lips are soft.” He lifts his hand and brushes said lips with his fingers.

“I, um,” Shiro starts to say, his voice rough. “You promised me your name.”

“Did I?” K's thumb presses against Shiro's lip. “

“I want to know. You know my name already,” Shiro huffs.

“Not your whole name. You never told me what the T stands for.”

“Well, yes-”

K's eyes seem to sparkle. “Are you gonna tell me?” His finger moving against Shiro's mouth is incredibly distracting.

“Yes,” is all Shiro can say. Gods, am I this touch-starved?

“Keith,” says K.

“Uh-huh.”

K, no, Keith snorts. “No, it's Keith. My name. That's all you're getting from me, big guy. Don't go Searching for any Keiths in your area now, I don't want you to find out who I am. Now, how about you?”

“You don't look like a Keith,” Shiro says. He grabs Keith's wrist and gently lowers it from his face. “Uh. Takashi. I'm Takashi. No one really calls me that though.”

“Takashi,” says Keith, his voice soft and sweet in a way it hasn't so far been in their short acquiantance.

Shiro _melts._

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith chat. And hold hands.

**05.12.21XX Groundrunner Model 204-A-2000, on route from [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]**

17:01

The train runs on, through a raging, suddenly risen thunder and a downpour that covers the entire world in grey. Not that it had held any other colour in it since the destruction and the end of the old world and the beginning of a new one. But this grey is something that comes and goes, the raindrops leaving straight, translucent lines on the speeding train’s windows.

Shiro watches this for a solid hour. He wonders if the rain will change to snow at some point, like it tends to do in the Northern parts of the world, especially these days. As he hears it, somewhere the snow lasts around the entire year.

What am I doing with my life?

He watches the rain and imagines it’s the ash, falling on the world a forever ago. His forehead drops against the window.

His communicator beeps.

 **theredlion:** _whatcha doing big guy?_

Shiro huffs. **tshirogane:** _contemplating_

 **theredlion:** _contemplating me, I hope_ _; )_

Shiro huffs again, his lip twitching. **tshirogane:** _just things. Can I come visit your car?_ His new acquaintance doesn’t need to know all about Shiro instantly, right?

 **theredlion:** _sure xoxo_

Shiro gathers himself and gets up. He brushes his hair from his forehead, tugs down his shirt and walks to Keith’s car, doing his best to be silent as possible as some people are clearly in the middle of deep sleep. Thankfully the train doors are silent, aside from the slight whizz of air whenever they open and close. Shiro tugs his prosthetic hand into his pocket as he goes- not out of the need to keep it hidden as prosthetic limbs and other bodily modifications are common, but just out of the need to ground himself.

What am I doing with myself? With my life? It’s been a constant mantra in his head for months now, probably even longer. Some part of him thinks he’s interested in his mysterious train companion just because of the mystery and because Keith is the first one to approach Shiro in such a way in a long time. Then again, Shiro can’t always tell kindness from flirting and had been too busy for even the most casual of hook-ups for a long time.

Him and his hand had gotten well acquainted. The same hand that now knocks on a sleepy Keith’s shoulder.

“I thought you were awake, Keith,” Shiro whispers, liking how the name tastes on his tongue.

Keith cracks one beautiful eye open and huffs. “You were doing your contemplating for too long so I got bored.” He stretches and then nods his head towards the seat next to him. Shiro takes it.

“So, miss me already?”

Shiro huffs. “I got bored,” he says. “And I was thinking that we could do a little exchange.”

Keith cocks one eyebrow.

“Truth for a truth?”

Keith leans back on his seat and smiles. “I see what you’re doing. You’re not getting any answers out of me otherwise, so you’re doing it like this. Quite shrewd of you, mister Shirogane.”

“Ease my curiousity. Please?” Shiro bites his lip, liking the way the corners of Keith’s eyes crinkle when he grins. Shiro leans against the small table in front of their seats, completely turned towards his companion.

Keith’s gaze seems to go up and down Shiro’s body, before jumping back to his eyes. “Okay then, big guy. Hit me up with a question. Or-“ Keith shifts closer. “You were quite eager with kissing me before, do it again? Nobody’s looking. And even if they were, they wouldn’t give a fuck.”

A flush of heat surges through Shiro, his heart thudding a pace faster. “Was I that good?”

Keith snorts, although his cheeks seem a little pink. “I think I need another test.” He’s the first to lean forward, the first to press his soft, soft lips to Shiro’s cheek, then to his lips.

“For all your innuendos and words that you want to hook up with me, are you getting shy? Now?” Shiro murmurs, hand finding Keith’s cheek.

“Shut up,” Keith says. “Anyway! Do you want to ask first or do I?” He takes Shiro’s hand between his. Shiro is quietly infatuated with the way his hand is bigger than Keith’s.   

He wants to hold hands while we talk? Shiro’s cheeks feel warm. “Uh. Hm. Tell me about your family? Or is that fair, considering I already told you about mine.”

Keith’s thumbs have begun to stroke Shiro’s fist. “It’s totally fine. Well, I have a massive extended family. I don’t think I’ve even met them all. They’re mostly arrogant dicks full of themselves but I like my dads. Don’t let them hear that though.”

“Dads?”

“I’ve got three. I know, I know. It’s rare as fuck but my dads are a rare breed. They’re-“ Keith hums. “You’re not prejudiced against the Galra like most of the world, are you?” Keith’s gaze is a little sharper than before.

Shiro shakes his head. “Nah. This-“ he squeezes his prosthetic into a fist. “Is Galran. And besides, it’s not like I don’t know what it’s like to experience conversations with people who are prejudiced against me because of my ethnicity and my disability.”

Sharpness disappears from Keith’s gaze and he smiles. “Well, they’re all dumb fucks then. You’re hot and sweet and that’s fine enough for me. Anyways. So. Yeah. My dads are almost all Galran. Thace is like, three quarters? Kolivan is a full Galra. Antok is full too. Before you ask then no, they’re not my biological dads. My biological dad died when I was like five and he was human. My mother, a full Galra-woman, died at the same time too. Kolivan and Antok are her brothers and adopted me. Thace is Kolivan’s husband. You can imagine how fun that was when I was a teenager. They’re all giants and could pick me up easily with like, one hand.” Keith winks. “Like you probably could, looking at those biceps.”

Shiro snorts. “Nah, I doubt that. But Galra? So you’re half-Galra?”

“A-a-a. Truth for a truth, big boy. You next. “

Shiro nods, relenting. His hand is still firmly held between Keith’s, Keith’s burning eyes locked on him.

“So, I’ve been wondering. Are you into women or men? Or both? All genders?” Keith bites his lip. “Do I, a somewhat male-identifying half-alien, have a chance?”

Shiro smiles, curling his other hand on top of Keith’s. “Shouldn’t you have asked that when you first came onto me?”

“Oh, you would have known if I had come onto you,” Keith purrs. “But answer the question, Takashi.”

Oh. Takashi. Again. Only his mother calls him Takashi. Shiro flushes. “You are just teasing me. I wouldn’t kiss you if you didn’t have a chance.”

“Just making sure. Covering my bases,” Keith says. “But I’d like to hear the rest of the answers. What are you into? Besides me, of course.”

Shiro’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds. His palms must have started to sweat, because his neck surely has. He licks his dry lips. “I haven’t really given it much thought, if I’m quite honest. I’ve always been too busy or uninterested in relationships or just generally attraction. Maybe I do gravitate towards men more though. Or at least that’s who I tend to look for. Not to say women or other genders are not an option.” He watches the light of the car reflect from Keith’s eyes. “You are really pretty,” is out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Keith smirks. “Is that your truth?”

“It’s one of them,” Shiro says. That inexplicable pull towards Keith is still inside of him, tugging him closer, closer, closer. “My turn. Are you wearing contacts?”

Keith blinks, his smirk falling off his face. Then he huffs. “My, what a sharp eye you have. Yeah.”

“Why?”

Maybe it’s uncertainty on Keith’s sharp features. “I don’t really look Galran other than a few things. My eyes are one of those things.”

Shiro begins to stroke Keith’s hand in turn. “I see. I’m sure your eyes are pretty without the contacts too.” It works, because Keith lifts his gaze and smiles back.

“Thanks, sweet talker. Before we ask more, how about you and me take a nap? Don’t worry, there’s no one sitting next to me right now and I don’t think it’s even reserved so you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“Do you want to nap against my shoulder? Is that it?” Shiro nudges Keith’s side gently and then withdraws his hands, only to wrap his arm around Keith’s shoulder. A warmth is spreading through Shiro, the strongest where they are connected.

“Mmm,” says Keith and leans against Shiro, closing his eyes. The way he tucks his head against Shiro’s neck makes something burst in Shiro’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is slowly developing into a sort of soulmates-situation lmao 
> 
> also updates will continue to be irregular for which I am sorry


End file.
